Buried Deep
by urbanamore
Summary: Short One Shot type thing based after Series One. Slight Nathan/OC though not really. Rated M due to adult themes/general theme of show.


Ow. Fuck. Ow, ow, ow, cramping here. Jesus my neck is killing. Immortal. Bloody immortal. Why _couldn't_ I have had super strength? You know, a cool power. But no, I can't die. How deep do they bury people? Well, I just suppose I'm happy I wasn't cremated. What if no one ever finds me here? What if I'm just buried down here forever? And I can't die, so I'll still be here in five hundred years as a wrinkly decaying old man. Fuck, I'm gonna be bored. And hungry. Well, at least I've got an iPod. Why _do _I have an iPod? Did they just think 'oh yeah, he might wake up down there, you never know, we'll just give him an iPod'. Shit. It's gonna run out of battery.

Dozed off there for a bit. No iPod battery left. I wasted it all while I was asleep. Listening to Frankie Goes To Hollywood – Relax. Good coffin song.

Maybe I should just have a wank. But then what if someone _does_ find me and I've left a massive pool of spunk in the bottom of the coffin? We'll leave it a couple of days.

Zoned out again. Shit, how will I know when it's been a couple of days? They could have at least buried me with a watch. You know, something that would come in useful. Well...oh, shut up me.

I'm such a dick. I was attempting to look at what I was wearing after a half an hour yelling attempt (note to self – sound doesn't travel through a few foot of dirt very well) and I found I have a mobile in my pocket. I have a fucking mobile phone in my pocket and I've been lying here for hours thinking about wrinkly old men. _And_ I have signal. How is it that when I go into fucking Tesco I have no signal yet when I'm buried underground I do? Seriously, this world is fucked up. I wonder if I could fit someone else in this coffin too. Do fat people have to have to have specially made coffins?

It's 10:15pm. Dark outside. Well, I guess its dark outside, I wouldn't know because _I'm buried alive_. Who do I call? Who do you call when you're buried alive and everyone thinks you're dead? Kelly? She'll just freak out and I won't get any sense from her. Curtis? Yeah, maybe not, he just thinks I'm a total prick. Although maybe after I saved his fucking life he won't...still. Alisha? No. No explanation needed. Weird kid? I mean Barry. Simon even. Well, yeah. Exactly. I'm sure he won't appreciate being contacted from beyond the grave. I wonder if any of them cried when I died? I bet Kelly did. I wonder if anyone was actually sad at all? Wonder who came to my funeral? This is freaky shit, man.

Right, scrolling through my phone contacts. Most of these people I don't even speak to anymore. Or they just think I'm an arsehole. Or both. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling...mum? Yeah, maybe not. I may be a shit son but I'm not just going to be all 'Oh, hey mum! It's me, your dead son. Yeah, I got buried alive, so, come dig me out?' She doesn't even know about all the crazy shit to do with the storm anyway. Wait, yes she does, her...her b...her boy...the guy she lives with is a fucking dog man. But still. She'll just think I'm 'craving attention' like the time I said her boyfriend sexually harassed me. Well I'm sorry, he was a freak. And anyway, he looked like a fifty year old paedophile. My mum can do better than that.

Still scrolling. Maybe I should phone the dog man himself? That would be a fun conversation. Or my dad, he'd enjoy that, finally his shitty son's dead and then it turns out he's still alive. He'd just leave me here to rot. Except I wouldn't rot. I don't think.

Why am I lying here musing who to call? Right, just close your eyes and point. One, two, three...Sam Thompson. Okay, maybe not. Go again. And...point. Frank Harrison. This really isn't working. Okay come on, I need to fucking get out of here. Right. Charlie. Charlie. Charlie? Really? Should I? I feel fucking mean. This is what being in a coffin for too long does to me. It makes me _feel _things. Right, come on, I'm going to call. Ow, ow, ow! Fuck! How do I even get my hand up to my ear? Ow!

Okay, ringing. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Shit, what if she doesn't pick up...

"Hey, uh, it's Nathan." Shit, I woke her up.

"Yeah, Nathan from high school." Awkward.

"Uh, yeah, the one that died yesterday."

"No! No! Not a prank call, I swear, just listen to me." Well come on, would I believe it? Actually, don't answer that.

"Well there was this storm, remember? And a load of crazy shit happened because of it. I was just starting my community service-" is this really the time to be interrupting?

"-uh, I'm kind of buried alive here. There's a time for that conversation, and believe me, it is not now. Anyway, one dude can turn back time, and his girlfriend, when you touch her, you like, want to shag her. And there's this chav, and she can read peoples' minds, and weird kid, I mean Barry, Simon! Simon can turn invisible. And it was really shit, 'cause I didn't get any power. But I found out what it is now. As I'm buried in a coffin and everybody thinks I'm dead."

"Yeah."

"Well, I was just thinking, you might be able to maybe, come and dig me up? I mean, I don't know how far down they usually bury people but I figure it can't be that deep, right?"

"You will? Seriously? Oh fuck, I owe you so much. Like seriously. Oh, my iPods working again."

"Oh, yeah, I dunno where it came from either, suppose they realised I'd get bored down here."

"Half an hour? Okay. Seriously, thank you. You don't even fucking...whatever. Just, thanks."

I wonder how long it takes to dig up someone. Relax, don't do it, when you want to go to it. I may possibly be one of the best singers you will ever meet. And the only one who is immortal. I still can't get over that. Seriously, I wonder if that means I have the best power or the worst. I still reckon Alisha's would be pretty good.

Switched the iPod off for a bit. I wonder how close she'll be before I can hear her. I wonder if she even comes. I mean that would be a pretty sick joke, but it doesn't exactly sound real, does it? What if she doesn't come? Then I'll just have to kill myself. Wait. Shit. Yeah okay, this is a crap power. I wonder if they buried me with some spliff.

They didn't. So they figure I'd need an iPod where I was going but not weed? These funeral directors really have no idea, do they?

I swear this is Kelly's iPod. Why was I buried with Kelly's iPod? That seems a bit weird. I don't remember stealing it. I wonder what would happen if I spontaneously combusted. Would I just appear again? Or would that really be it for me? Maybe that's the only way I can die. I wonder things too much. Shit, itchy foot.

Wait. That means Kelly has Frankie says Relax on her iPod. Kelly. Frankie says Relax. This world is full of surprises. I need the loo.

Moment's passed. Hm, it's been an hour and a half. I wonder if she's even started digging yet. Stop wondering. Would I be able to hear her yet? No, she's puny; if she's started she won't be anywhere near half way yet. I don't even know how deep half way is, but still. Stay optimistic.

It's now 1am. I'm such a shit friend. I haven't even seen this girl for months and then I ring her at eleven pm asking her to dig me out of a grave. I could have at least waited until morning. But my back's so itchy I wouldn't have survived until morning. Wait, yes I would, I'm immortal. I keep fucking forgetting. My bladder needs are back with a vengeance. Please don't let me piss myself.

1:30am. The iPod's back on. Lady GaGa. Just dance, gonna be okay. Well surprisingly there's not enough room in here to dance and I'm buried alive, so no, I probably won't be okay.

Some people think I'm bonkers, but I just think I'm free. I'm hardly free; I'm stuck in a fucking box in the ground. Next song.

Snooooooooooooop Dogg. This music makes me laugh.

Ah, this is more like it, Alvin and the Chipmunks. I'll have to consult Kelly as to why she has them on her iPod, but in the meantime, I'm just going to relax.

Ow, shit. My head. I heard a voice. I can't believe she's actually here. But I just attempted to sit up and smashed my head. Let me just warn you now: do not try to sit up in a coffin.

I heard it again. _And _I almost banged my head again. I think she heard me swearing when I hit my head. I can't hear what she's saying though. It's not like I can help at all, can I.

"Nathan! Can you hear me?" wonder how long she's been yelling that for?

"No, but I thought I'd reply anyway to confuse you!"

"Oh, shut it."

"First you ask me a question, then you tell me to shut up, make your mind up!"

"Bloody hell, Nayth, just help me out here? It's two in the morning and I'm in a graveyard digging up your 'dead' body. Just shut up unless I ask you something, okay?" Jesus, I haven't been called Nayth in ages.

"Charming!" well, I suppose she has a point.

BANG. Ow, my ears. Ow my whole freaking body. Who knew hitting a coffin with a shovel would cause the person inside so much pain? I guess nobody's ever tried it.

"Nayth, I'm just going to try and pull the top off this coffin now, so try and push, okay?" no shit, Sherlock.

Ow, ow. Okay, I'm weak, I'm so weak. I'm a weak boy. I'm a disgrace to all of manly hood. Okay, shut up and push.

"Dude, what up with the coffin?"

Oh yeah, I'm out.

"Don't ask me, it ain't ask comfy as it looks though, trust me." I fail at rubbing my spine better.

Why did I even try that? Why do people _do_ that? Why would _rubbing_ a spine cure it? I'm immortal, I don't have healing hands. Or do I? Rub, rub. No.

"I thought your mum hated you or something?"

"I guess she thought she better spend a bit of money once I was dead, seeing as she kicked me out of the house and whatever. Anyway, we patched things up, kind of."

"Seems a bit stupid to line a coffin with silk, though." Oi, don't insult my coffin.

Wait, why am I defending it? Burn it for all I care! I never want to see the thing again!

"Well I suppose they're happy they did now, it would have been a bit shit if I'd have woken up in a cardboard box."

"Anyway Nayth, aren't you going to at least say thank you? Mum's gonna bollock me if she finds my bed empty again." God, I miss being called Nayth.

"Thanks." Ah, hugs. Is a hug too much?

Should I have gone in for a firm handshake?

No, we seem to be fine. Ah, long hug. Long hugs are good. Not to awkward. And...release.

"What do you mean, again, anyway?" I can be a nosy twat if I want to.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll tell you later." Ah, fuck, I'm about to piss myself.

"I'll be right back, I'm about to piss myself."

It's hard to scramble out of a grave ditch when your bladder's full, I'll tell you that much. Found a good bush. Pissed. Headed back to the grave. Why I jumped back in I don't know.

"Why did you jump back in?" see, great minds think alike.


End file.
